The Mascot
by MissEclipse
Summary: <html><head></head>A very unusual patient arrives at 4077th M*A*S*H. Set in the Pierce/Hunnicutt era. Just a bit of pre-Halloween fun! Reviews welcome and much appreciated.</html>
1. Chapter 1

[**_Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing in this story!_**]

**Chapter 1: The night before the day after**

[_Timeline: Korea - Summer 1952_]

Even though it was just past midnight, the oppressive Korean heat bore down heavily on Hawkeye. He tossed and turned in his army cot, his raven black hair sticking uncomfortably to his forehead.

The arrival of an ambulance in the compound was enough of a distraction to finally bring him out of his restless slumber. He got out of his cot and pulled his red robe on over his t-shirt and boxer shorts, thinking he may as well go and see if he could help.

He glanced over at his swamp-mate, Major Charles Emerson Winchester III, who was snoring gently in his sleep. He seemed oblivious to the stifling humidity of the night air. The small but extremely effective, Vintage Mid Century Deco electric fan – sent to him by his mother from Boston - protected him from the relentless heat. He had somehow managed to bribe Klinger into rigging it up to the electricity circuit.

Not only that, but he had a small cool box filled with an array of bottled water – also sent to him by his mother. Again, he had managed to bribe the kitchen personnel to keep him stocked up with a never-ending supply of ice. A selection of non-military hygiene wipes, deodorants and other toiletry luxuries, made sure he was the coolest – and freshest – person in camp!

Hawkeye tip-toed over to where the Major lay sleeping and carefully unplugged the fan. Usually it was hidden away under lock and key with all his other personal effects, so it wouldn't be swiped if he wasn't in the tent. Hawkeye grinned in satisfaction as he made his way outside with the fan safely tucked under his arm. Let the pompous wind-bag suffer for a few hours along with everyone else in the camp!

In the meantime, Captain BJ Hunnicutt, who was the doctor on duty, was already approaching the ambulance with the night nurse. BJ opened the doors and peered uneasily into the vehicle to see what atrocities awaited inside.

There were about six men lying down on stretchers on the ambulance slats. The first aid medic was perched beside one of the men, checking a pressure bandage that was covering the patient's side. As if by magic, several 4077th corpsmen appeared and helped to get the casualties out of the vehicle and on to the ground.

As BJ began his triage procedure, he could tell from the soldiers' fierce appearances and bushy moustaches that they were from the Turkish army. Luckily, they just appeared to have minor cuts and bruises. But they were clearly in a state of shock.

Hawkeye came over and squatted by the patient with the side injury, putting the fan down beside him. On further inspection, it looked like he had been slashed with a knife.

"What happened here?" he asked the Turkish medic. "We weren't aware there was any fighting in the sector."

"It was a very quick ambush," replied the medic. "The North Koreans slipped through the defence line whilst we were sleeping. These are the lucky ones. Some of the others had their throats cut whilst they were still asleep."

Both Hawkeye and BJ exchanged a sombre glance. You didn't have to be in hand-to-hand combat to be killed in this war. The North Koreans - donning their tennis shoes for added stealth - liked to attack at night. They would blow bugles and whistles so the infantry would know they had arrived. The noise would throw the unsuspecting soldiers off-guard in the process. No doubt the sentry on duty would have paid heavily for his oversight in not spotting the attack sooner.

Colonel Potter also appeared in the compound and joined the triage party.

"Do you guys need a hand?" he enquired, in a sleepy voice.

"No thanks, Colonel," affirmed BJ. "Most of the wounds are just superficial. We should be able to handle it."

"Okeydokey!" replied Potter. "Get Winchester if things pick up."

"Speaking of Charles," said Hawkeye, suddenly remembering about the fan. He grabbed it from the floor and held it out to the Colonel. "Can you take this back to your tent with you, Colonel?"

Potter looked at Hawkeye suspiciously, but he was too hot and tired to get involved in another one of Hawkeye's childish pranks. Besides, he could make good use of the fan!

After a couple of hours the Turks had been attended to and were settled into Post-Op. Thankfully, their wounds were not too serious. The mental scars of the conflict would no doubt take longer to heal than their actual injuries.

BJ and Hawkeye sighed with relief, realising that the casualties could have been a lot more severe if a full-blown battle had ensued. The Turks did most of their fighting with the enemy at night with knives and machetes. The silent death was how these tactics were described by their Allies. They had a reputation for being rough, hard aggressors, who preferred to have the offensive position.

They were friendly enough, but they had a dangerous proficiency in close combat when they were armed with their long, sabre-looking knives. The other military units remained very wary of them.

Hawkeye finally went back to bed, leaving BJ to finish his duties in Post-Op. As he opened the Swamp door he was confronted by a very agitated and extremely hot, Major Winchester.

"Alright, Pierce, you cretin!" he fumed. "Where is it?"

Hawkeye sighed. It was going to be a long night!


	2. Chapter 2: The day after the night befor

**Chapter 2: The day after the night before**

By mid-morning the next day, the Turkish casualties were ready to be sent back to their unit. The only patient that was left was the soldier who had been slashed in the side. His recovery would obviously take longer than the others.

It was now the afternoon and Hawkeye and BJ were in the Swamp, engaging in an after-lunch martini. Winchester, who had been unable to retrieve his precious fan from his CO, was sulking in the background. He decided to get revenge by playing one of his classical records, which he knew they both detested.

They were abruptly interrupted by the presence of Radar, who seemed to be in a rather worried state.

"Sirs!" he exclaimed loudly, as he came blundering into the Swamp. "Somethin' terrible has happened – you've gotta come quick!"

"What's the matter, Radar?" asked Hawkeye. "Has my weekly Nudist magazine not been delivered again?"

But Radar was already running back out into the compound. Hawkeye and BJ swiftly followed behind, eager to help their young, flustered friend. The Major's curiosity also got the better of him and he hurried out after them, wondering what all the fuss was about.

They were surprised to see two Turkish soldiers getting out of a jeep, one of which was carrying a young deer. The other Turk, bearing sergeant stripes on his sleeve, stepped forward and saluted the three officers.

"This is Sergeant Yilmaz and Private Sadik," said Radar.

"Ah!" said BJ. "You must be kin-folk of Corporal Osman?"

"I come to make sure he is okay," replied Sergeant Yilmaz. But first, I ask you, please, if you can help with another one of our comrades."

He gestured towards the deer, which was still being lovingly held by Private Sadik, as if it was some kind of cherished treasure.

"It's his leg," continued the Sergeant. "We find him all tangled up in some barbed wire on the way here. You can help, yes?"

Hawkeye and BJ looked at one another, slightly bemused by the request, wondering why they should be so concerned about the hurt animal.

"It's their lucky mascot," explained Radar, as if he had read their minds.

"Lucky!" huffed Winchester. "The only luck such a culinary delight could bring, would be if it were to be served up as pan-seared venison, smothered in a blackberry and shallot red wine sauce, accompanied by a bottle of Rioja!"

Being somewhat of an animal lover, Radar's eyes opened wide in alarm at the Major's words. The Turkish soldiers also looked at the Major with a fierce grimace.

"Have a heart, Charles," said BJ, as he went over to examine the deer. Private Sadik obligingly put him on the ground, so that the doctor could get a closer look at his injuries. Most of the damage was to the back leg. The cruel barbed wire had torn part of the flesh to shreds and had left a raw, gaping wound. There were also several scratches and grazes on the rest of his body. The deer whimpered slightly at BJ's gentle touch, but remained calm and docile. He was obviously used to human contact as he nuzzled amiably against BJ's hand.

"Well, we need to clean him up and that back leg will need stitching," said BJ, as he petted the deer on the head. "But I don't see why he shouldn't be up and running again in a few days."

"Surely you jest, Hunnicutt!" scoffed Winchester. "Do I look like Dr Dolittle? I'm afraid I don't operate on anything that has feathers, gills or walks on more than two legs!"

"Don't mind him," said Hawkeye to the soldiers. "He suffers with an incurable lack of kindness and compassion."

The soldiers beamed back gratefully at Hawkeye.

"You won't be sorry, Captain," said Sergeant Yilmaz, as he bent down and scooped up the animal into his arms. "Our little Bambi will bring you good luck whilst he is here."

Winchester raised an amused eyebrow at the mention of the name. The deer's upper canine teeth formed long, slightly curved tusks. A more fitting name would probably have been Fang rather than the cute name taken from the Disney film!

"Bambi?" he repeated. "No doubt we will soon get acquainted with his chums Thumper and Flower! Well, I think I'll leave you all to this little fairytale. Gentlemen!"

With that he sauntered back to the Swamp, his shoulders shaking up and down as he sniggered to himself.

"Radar, take Bambi to the stables," said BJ. "I'm just going to get a few things from OR."

"OK, BJ," replied Radar, earnestly. He led the men to the stables and Sergeant Yilmaz laid Bambi gently on the hay. The Colonel's horse, Sophie, was in her paddock. She lifted her head up nervously at the unexpected visitors. But after some soft words and a handful of straw from Radar, she settled down again.

"So how did you end up having a deer for a mascot?" enquired Hawkeye.

"He wandered into our camp when he was just a few weeks old," said Sergeant Yilmaz. "There was no sign of his mama. He was weak and skinny, but we soon fattened him up. When he got better he just sort of kept hanging around. Sometimes he would disappear – like the other night – but he would always come back and find us. Even if we moved location."

"And does he really bring you good luck?" asked Radar.

"You betcha boots!" said Private Sadik. "It's hard to explain, but ever since we found him we have mostly good fortune in the camp."

"Wow!" infused Radar, looking at Bambi, with an awe-struck expression on his face. Hawkeye chuckled to himself at his innocent gullibility.

"But when he is not with us, terrible tragedies happen," continued the Private, sadly.

There was an uncomfortable silence as the Turks were obviously remembering the disastrous events of the night-time attack. The silence was finally broken by BJ, who entered the stables with a surgical tray, a couple of aprons, clean dressings and some ketamine and xylazine to administer a mild anaesthetic.

Hawkeye held the deer steady, stroking the deer's golden brown coat, while BJ carefully injected the solution. The Turks hovered anxiously over their shoulders, watching every move the doctors made with a fastidious eye.

"Radar," said Hawkeye, their presence beginning to get on his nerves. "Why don't you take our guests over to Post-Op to see Corporal Osman?"

The two Turks took the hint and hesitantly stood up to comply with the Captain's orders.

"Don't worry," said Radar, in an encouraging voice, as he ushered them out of the stables. "Our doctors are the best in the whole of Korea!"

BJ gave Hawkeye a wry smile.

"Something tells me we better not mess this up," he said, apprehensively. "Otherwise we're going to have a bunch of angry Turks baying for our blood!"

Hawkeye nodded in acknowledgement. They both looked down at their fragile, precious patient, as they waited for the anaesthetic to kick in. The bright eyes that stared back had an almost trusting, human quality to them. He held their gaze until finally the sedation made his eyelids close and his head slowly drooped to one side.

Hawkeye took a deep breath.

"Well, here goes!" he said.

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Bambi stayed with the 4077th M*A*S*H for a couple of weeks whilst he recovered from his injury. There would be a scar and a bald patch on his hind leg where BJ and Hawkeye had cleaned the wound and stitched him up. But apart from that, the little buck made excellent progress.

He was an instant hit with everyone in the camp. Indeed, he seemed to enjoy all the attention. Even Major Winchester warmed to the animal and was often seen giving him little titbits to eat.

The Turks were delighted with their mascot's recovery. When they came back to visit Corporal Osman, they brought food and Turkish liqueurs for BJ and Hawkeye, as a thank-you for all their help.

As Bambi regained his confidence, he started to venture out into his new surroundings. He was a bit shaky at first, returning to camp in between his short excursions. Eventually, as his leg got stronger, the camp saw less and less of him. Finally the day came when he didn't return and it was assumed he had found his way back to the Turkish unit.

Tragically, the camp learned, a few days later, that Bambi had been hit by a vehicle and had died instantly. The news came as a great to shock to everyone, as they had all become very fond of the little deer. The camp strangely seemed a much sadder place without him.


	3. Chapter 3: Winchester's clusters

**Chapter 3: Winchester's clusters**

A few days later BJ and Hawkeye were relaxing in the Swamp. There had been no let up from the sweltering sun and they had been playing games to try and take their minds of the heat.

In the meantime, Major Winchester was returning to the Swamp, having just taken a shower. As he walked across the compound a movement on the outskirts of the camp caught his eye. For a moment, he thought he saw a deer that looked like Bambi.

He stopped in his tracks and squinted across the compound but the creature seemed to have mysteriously disappeared again. Winchester dismissed the sighting as just his imagination playing tricks with his mind.

He entered the Swamp and proceeded to get dressed. He pulled on his shirt over his t-shirt, not bothering to button it up as it was so hot. It was at that point that he noticed his Major's clusters were missing. He glared accusingly at his fellow swampees, who were uncharacteristically quiet and looked as guilty as hell!

"Okay," he said, eying the surgeons up sceptically. "Hand them over!"

The duo looked innocently at each other and shrugged their shoulders as if they didn't know what the Major was referring to.

"Just give me back the clusters and we'll say no more about it," warned Winchester, the tone of his voice going up a notch as he tried to keep hold of his temper.

BJ turned to Hawkeye with a questioning look on his face.

"Have you seen Charles's clusters, Hawk?" he asked.

"Well," replied Hawkeye, with a wicked glint in his eye. "Not since we swiped his towel and bathrobe from the Showers and he had to do a 50 yard streak across the compound back to the tent!"

BJ exploded into a fit of the giggles.

"Yes, very funny," snorted Winchester, impatiently. "I'm bowled over by your supreme wit and childish humour. Now give me my clusters!" he added through gritted teeth.

"Well … the truth is … Charles," said BJ slowly. "We seem to have … misplaced them."

"You see," explained Hawkeye, "we were playing "Hunt the Thimble" – except we didn't have a thimble …"

"… so we borrowed your clusters ..." interjected BJ.

"It was my turn to hide them," admitted Hawkeye. "But we got distracted and now I can't remember where I hid them."

Winchester looked disapprovingly at the martini still and the empty glasses. It didn't take a genius to work out what had distracted them. Although they weren't quite three sheets to the wind, they were definitely on the way to becoming decidedly tipsy!

"You … you … imbeciles!" he finally seethed.

Luckily for the guys, the Major's outburst was interrupted by an announcement on the tannoy.

"_Attention all personnel. Attention all personnel. Casualties in the compound. All abled bodies report on the double_."

Hawkeye and BJ sobered up quicker than two drunks in a monastery! Winchester had a quick look around for his clusters, feeling slightly undressed without them. Not being able to find them, he made his way out to the triage area.

For a fleeting second he was sure he saw Bambi again, this time standing by the stables. He was momentarily distracted as he did a double-take to see if he had just imagined it. But again the deer seemed to have vanished into thin air.

Colonel Potter and Major Houlihan, had already started triage. Potter bellowed irritably at Winchester as he saw him gazing into the distance.

"Whenever you're ready, Major," he said sarcastically. "Unless of course you've got something better to do!"

Winchester snapped out of his daydream, as the sound of the Colonel's voice brought him back to reality. He bent down to examine the nearest patient, who was sitting down on the ground with a leg injury. Winchester flinched as he realised the casualty was North Korean. He was just about to voice his concerns to Colonel Potter, when the soldier suddenly produced a pistol and pointed it at the Major.

A few of the nurses nearby screamed in fright and for a moment the whole triage party came to a standstill. The Korean had struggled to his feet as he kept Winchester in his sights.

"What do you intend to do with that my good man?" asked Winchester, in a nervous voice. He wasn't sure if the soldier understood what he said, but he thought it wouldn't do any harm to try and reason with him.

"I intend to shoot the first officer I see," came back the chilling reply, in broken English.

Winchester instinctively touched the collar of his shirt and then sighed in relief as he remembered he wasn't wearing his clusters. He stared anxiously back at the soldier, who was clearly in a lot of pain from the effort of standing up on his bad leg. He was swaying unsteadily and the loss of blood from his injury was making him feel light-headed and disorientated.

Klinger, who just happened to be on guard duty before they were overrun with casualties, quickly over-powered him. He came up behind the Korean and bashed him with his white shoulder handbag. The soldier toppled over as his leg gave way and he dropped the gun as he fell. A corpsman quickly picked it up.

As the soldier looked up, he wondered if he was dreaming, as he saw Klinger standing over him, rifle in hand with a white floppy sun hat on his head. He was dressed in a knee-length, white pleated dress with a big blue flower print all over it. He had stylishly accessorised the dress with a bullet belt around his waist and a pair of white pumps on his feet.

"Good work, Klinger," said Colonel Potter, not at all perturbed to see his corporal wearing a dress. Everyone in camp knew Klinger was bucking for a Section 8! A couple of MPs came over and took the North Korean into custody until a doctor could look at his injuries.

Winchester had paled significantly as the shock of what just happened began to sink in. He was visibly shaking and even Hawkeye and BJ felt sorry for him.

"Looks like we did you a favour, Charles," said Hawkeye. "I reckon you would have been a gonner if you'd been wearing your clusters!"

The Major was only half listening to Hawkeye, as he spotted Bambi ambling back out of camp again. He closed his eyes and shook his head, still convinced that he was just a figment of his imagination. When he opened them again the creature had gone.

"What's up, Charles?" asked BJ, following Winchester's steadfast gaze across the road. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I thought I saw … no, I couldn't have done … must be the heat," mumbled Winchester, a puzzled look on his face.

"Saw what?" probed Hawkeye.

"Bambi!" blurted out Winchester. "But I couldn't have done – could have I?"

If it hadn't been for the complete look of bewilderment on his face, the others would have found the statement highly amusing.

"Well, there must be more than one deer out there," reasoned Potter.

"But how many have got a bald patch on their hind leg?" pondered Winchester.

Everyone looked pretty stumped as the question was left unanswered and remained hanging eerily in the air.


	4. Chapter 4: Intervention or coincidence

**Chapter 4: Divine intervention or coincidence?**

By the time Winchester came out of OR, the shock of his ordeal had worn off. He had also dismissed the sighting of Bambi as just a severe case of heatstroke. As the three surgeons trooped wearily back to the Swamp, they all seemed distracted with their own thoughts of the day's mysterious events. The Major flopped down on his bed as Hawkeye made a beeline for the still.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, as he noticed the clusters lying on the martini tray. He waved them jubilantly at Winchester. "Look what I've found!"

Charles marched over to Hawkeye and grabbed the clusters.

"I suppose you expect me to believe that you've just miraculously found them?" he questioned in a disbelieving voice.

"Well, I'm sure I would have remembered if I had hid them in such an obvious place," replied Hawkeye, frowning deeply. He looked genuinely surprised as he peered down at the tray, and then back at Charles.

"Perhaps this is just more than a coincidence," reflected BJ, also looking baffled at their sudden re-appearance. He was sure he would have noticed the clusters on the tray during his part of playing the "hunter" in their game. "After all," he persisted. "Didn't the Turks say that Bambi was their lucky mascot?

"Don't be absurd!" rebuffed Winchester. "Surely you don't believe in all that black magic rubbish, Hunnicutt!"

But there was an expression of doubt on the Major's face. It also took him a good couple of days before he would wear his clusters again! Just as he was beginning to forget the whole unnerving incident, new sightings of the deer became a regular occurrence around the camp.

It started with a patient who had been bitten by a copperhead snake on his finger. A blue-tinged bruising had already appeared around the fang marks. His finger, hand and arm were swelling up at a terrific rate, as red blister-like burn marks erupted on his skin.

BJ, who was conducting triage, thought that the finger would probably have to be amputated to stop the infection from spreading. Unfortunately, due to other more serious casualties, the patient would have to wait his turn.

He instructed the nurse to administer an antivenom injection and to watch out for signs of delayed shock, vomiting and abdominal cramping. Before the corpsmen took him to pre-op, the patient suddenly sat up on his stretcher and pointed out to something across the compound.

"What a funny looking deer!" he jeered. "Looks like he's had a bad hair day!"

The nurse and BJ looked to where the patient was pointing, but couldn't see any sign of a deer. The patient then promptly fell back on to the stretcher and passed out. As he was rushed into Pre-Op, BJ scrutinised his surroundings ominously, but there was no sign of the evasive deer.

Several hours later, after the more serious cases had been dealt with, BJ came back to examine his patient. He was surprised to see that a black husk had formed round the infected finger, almost as if it was giving it some protection. The swelling and bruising appeared to have reduced and didn't seem to have spread too far up the patient's arm. BJ decided not to go ahead with the amputation. After a couple of days of observation, the husk split and peeled off. The soldier's finger was fine. It appeared to have gotten better all on its own! Or had there been some sort of divine intervention?

Another time, Colonel Potter was confronted with a patient who had just been brought in from the frontline. His sergeant was convinced he had some sort of psychiatric problem. Despite the fact that he didn't appear to have sustained any injury, the soldier was convinced that he had been hurt.

The Colonel examined him and indeed, he didn't appear to have any serious injuries. But the soldier definitely was showing signs of stress and discomfort. As he put his shirt back on, Potter glanced out of the window, hoping to find some inspiration to help him make some sense of his disturbed patient.

His eyes were drawn to a figure, which was cavorting playfully with his horse, Sophie, in her outside paddock. Straightaway he recognised the little deer from the bald patch on his hind leg. As the deer stopped his play, he turned his head towards the Colonel. Potter could have sworn that he saw Bambi give him a little wink!

"Well, would you lookie at that!" he exclaimed, to no-one in particular. The soldier glanced at the Colonel, briefly caught up in his animated excitement. He looked out the window to where the Colonel was pointing, but didn't understand his ramblings about a deer called Bambi playing with his horse. He turned away from the window and continued to do up his buttons.

It was then that Potter's eyes were drawn to a small tear in the solder's shirt.

"Bingo!" thought Potter to himself, as a theory to the soldier's injuries hit him like a ton of bricks! It had to be a chest wound with no internal bleeding – he would stake his reputation on it.

A quick chest x-ray confirmed Potter's diagnosis was correct. Arrangements were made with Pierce to get him into surgery pronto. It didn't take long to discover that the wound was rapidly filling his chest with blood. Pierce and Potter drained his chest and gave him a blood transfusion. The operation not only cured the soldier of his psychosis, but also saved his life.

Back in Post-OP, the soldier joked with the Colonel, that perhaps he had his own case of psychosis to deal with. Potter looked at him blankly for a moment. The soldier reminded him of his vision of an "imaginary deer". The Colonel glanced at Pierce, both thinking exactly the same thing. Perhaps they hadn't been the only ones who had helped save the soldier's life.

And so the sightings continued all throughout the summer. Each sighting ended in more or less the same way, with either someone narrowly escaping death or coming into good fortune.

It was now December and the biting Siberian wind replaced the previous summer haze. On a particularly cold afternoon, the Swampmen had congregated in the Mess Tent - with probably the whole entire camp - as they huddled round the stove to keep warm. The stoves could prevent frostbite, but they couldn't actually keep the tents very warm!

Even though they were all wearing several layers of clothing, the cold chilled them to the bone. All except Charles, who was snugly cocooned in a padded green parka with a fur-rimed collar. No doubt another present courtesy of Mother Winchester!

Just as they were finally beginning to feel their fingers and toes again, Radar stood up, listening intently.

"Here they come," he yelled. "And they're loaded!"

The familiar drone of in-coming helicopters made everyone groan in protest. It wasn't only the ever-present feeling of the unknown that filled them with dread, but also the fact that they would have to endure the bitter sting of the freezing wind in their faces.

As well as the choppers bringing in the wounded, several ambulances also rolled into the compound. One of the Calvary units had been overrun by the Chinese, who had shot the men whilst they were trying to keep warm in their sleeping bags.

Maybe it was more by luck than judgment, but the Chinese apparently shot more to wound than to kill. The survivors, consisting of about 30 men, were brought in all at once – still in their sleeping bags. They would keep the doctors and nurses busy until the late hours of the night.

Weirdly, the topic of conversation amongst the wounded all centred around one subject. Before the Chinese had attacked them, 29 out of the 30 soldiers claimed they saw a deer with a bald patch on his leg walking amongst them. Even more bizarrely, the one person who hadn't seen the deer (a trip to the latrine had beckoned) was the only casualty who didn't survive the shooting.

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The next morning the Swampmen were back in their tent, deliberating the events of the night before. Winchester still conceded that it was purely coincidence. BJ, ever the optimist, insisted that there had to be more to it than that.

Hawkeye, not being a great believer in anything he couldn't prove, was very much on the fence. He was sitting on his cot, nursing a hot cup of coffee as he stared out of the Swamp window. He listened to Charles and BJ ranting and raving at each other, as they tried to make a valid point to both sides of the argument.

It was a stormy morning and the cyclonic clouds were discharging a few specks of snow into the air. Hawkeye watched the flakes as they fell in a quiet, carefree manner to the ground. As the precipitation began to get heavier, he noticed a figure emerging from the white blanket that was beginning to cover the ground.

Hawkeye put his cup down next to the still and stared back intently at the image. A pair of bright eyes returned his gaze. As the deer began to totter towards the Swamp, there was no mistaking the bald patch on the deer's hind leg.

Hawkeye jumped up off the cot and swung open the Swamp door. BJ and Charles stopped their conversation and immediately shouted at Hawkeye to shut the door as they were met with a cold blast of air.

All of a sudden a sniper's bullet zinged into the Swamp through the window that Hawkeye had just moved away from. It hit the still and splashed into his cup of coffee. Hawkeye slammed the door shut and all three men hit the deck. They could hear a few more shots going off in the distance and then there was silence. They could only presume that either the infiltrator had escaped, or had been shot down by the MPs.

The guys heaved a sigh of relief as they picked themselves up from the floor. Hawkeye opened the door and this time all three men saw the shape of a deer, fading into the swirling snowflakes until finally it disappeared from view. Somehow, they had a feeling that they weren't going to see the deer again.

Hawkeye shut the door. BJ walked over to the cup of coffee and fished out the bullet. All three men stared at it, in a reverenced silence. They knew how close Hawkeye had just come to biting the bullet. It was one of those accepted things that it didn't pay to dwell on too much. But there was no doubt in everyone's minds, that Bambi had probably just saved Captain Benjamin Franklin Pierce's life.

**The end**

[**_Thank-you for taking the time to read. Please feel free to leave a review or share your thoughts/constructive criticisms _**]

[**_AN: Please don't quote me word from word on the surgical stuff. I did a little bit of research, but some methods may not be medically correct._** ]


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